"Why do you need a dress again?" Spencer asked while we were browsing the sales racks at Filene's Basement.

"Because she's going to prom," Ginger teased.

"It's not prom," I corrected, "it's a fall formal."

"Oh whatever same difference," Ginger argued, pulling the most awful blue sequined dress from the rack and holding it in front of me.

"First of all, there's a reason that thing's on sale, it's hideous. And second of all, prom is in the spring." I was running out of come-backs to refute Ginger's position that I was going to prom and as such, Chandler and I were going to do it.

"I think it's cute," Spencer said. "He sounds like a really nice guy."

"See, that's the problem. He is a nice guy. I don't want a nice guy. Okay, that's not what I mean. Yes, I want a nice guy, but I want one who, to quote my friend Mandy, makes my socks go up and down," I said, hanging the ugly blue dress back up on the rack.

"He's gonna make your panties go down, that's for sure," Ginger teased, yet again.

"Enough. Chandler and I are just friends and there will be NO sleeping together period. Besides, he knows that we're just friends and that's the only reason I'm going."

"You can't tell me that he has no other friends in law school that he could've took with him," Ginger countered.

Shit. She had a point. "I don't know. All I know is that I agreed to go, and so now I have to go."

"No you don't. If you don't want to go, just tell him you can't go. At least if you tell him now, he's still go time to find another date," Spencer suggested.

"That's rude. I said I'd go, so I'm going," I said stubbornly. "I'm not gonna fuck up my karma any worse; I'm trying to repair my dating karma, remember, not ruin it further."

"I'm telling you, the only reason he asked you to go is because he likes you and is hoping to show you a good time to get himself out of the friend category and into your pants," Ginger said knowingly, and walked away, leaving me to ponder that little tidbit of third-party insight.

I tried to dismiss her notions, but as the date neared, I started to dread my decision. Chandler was obviously very excited - more excited than one should be about going to a dance with a friend. He was far too anxious for me to meet his friends, and casually mentioned that some of them were getting rooms at the hotel for the after party, in case I was interested, he said.

I started to suspect that Ginger was right; Chandler was hoping to make a transition from being my friend to being my boyfriend. I may have told him that I just wasn't that interested, but my agreeing to go with him to this formal seemed to have indicated that I was maybe a teeny tiny wee bit interested - I basically said to him in no specific terms, that he's still got a chance...